


Pleasure Domme

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Bratty Lena Luthor, Dom Kara Danvers, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Gentle BDSM, Lesbian Relationship, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, Pleasure Domme, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Squirting, Sub Lena Luthor, Suspension, lesbian bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Prompt Fill: Domme Kara and bratty Lena not wanting to admit that submitting feels good... until she just can't hide it anymore.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 434





	Pleasure Domme

“Don’t be scared,” Kara enjoys it somewhat but she doesn’t let on, admiring her handiwork as the tightly-wound chief executive spins off the floor in bundles and bundles of rope. “This isn’t about hurting you or making you feel small. I just want you to feel good—”

“I feel like a rotisserie chicken,” Lena murmurs, clearing her throat and blushing.

“Yes you’re right, rotisserie chickens are very delicious,” Kara nods, smirking and capturing a creamy thigh to tighten it up a little bit. “I think we’ll get this knee a bit higher so I can watch that pretty cunt of yours do little twirls for me.”

“Do you have to be so crass?”

“Yes baby,” Kara cranes down and kisses her forehead, push-pulling on the working ends to bring the thigh up higher to the bamboo. “I do.”

It had started with flirting around the idea, spoken about yet never with serious intention on Lena’s part. The big boss knew about the shibari classes, the workshops, that it was an interest Kara felt passionate about, but not a hobby she herself had the precious hours in the day to indulge in.

Their relationship was one of quickies: shower sex, office sex, car sex, elevator sex if they were riding to the top floor. At first, Kara thought it was because Lena really did only have so much time in the day. But, she knew Lena far better now they had been dating for some months. Kara had come to realise she just got off on the exhilaration of possibly getting caught. Lena… she was more kinky than she realised.

“The inside of my thigh feels a little sore,” Lena observes almost clinically.

“I would be very worried if it didn’t, bratty girl.” Kara smiles and undoes her pristine bun into a cascade of glossy black hair.

She digs and rubs her fingers into Lena’s scalp, finding little pressure points either side of the temple to relieve tension. Lena can’t help herself, she sighs happily and the tightness in her shoulderblades visibly releases. The rope cradles her, suspends her, keeps her arms in a box-tie behind her spine, her thighs splayed and supported, clean suspension lines that are approximate and comfortable.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” Kara whispers from the back of her throat, lips pressing to the brat’s ear, teeth nipping the pinkened top of it. “Do you feel faraway and dreamy yet?”

Lena exhales and thinks, her brow wrinkling into a furrow as though she wants to deny it but her thighs are hanging apart and the evidence is plain to see. When she inhales, Kara pushes on the flat of her shoulder and sends her slowly spinning around on her axis, like a little planetary body, like a little world in and of herself.

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” Kara laughs, sultry and low. “We have the whole evening ahead of us remember?” she reminds. “You can take as long as you need to get there.”

“About that,” Lena murmurs, eyes closed and struggling to be the disinterested onlooker that she was when the rope first went on. “I might have a business call to take in a little—”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“It’s important.”

“I don’t care.”

“If the phone calls then I’m answering it.”

“Oh, are you now?” Kara hums, glancing around the living room, then her eyes land on the cellphone by the coffee table. “Tell me more please? I like it when you’re grumpy.”

“Kara.” Lena opens her eyes, determined to be in control, to have the final word. “If my work cellphone goes then we’re stopping so I can take—wait, what are you doing?”

“Dynamic problem solving.” Kara brings the phone back towards the tied-up troublemaker. “Thumbprint please. I’ll put your phone on airplane mode.”

“No.”

“You promised me an undisturbed evening for my birthday,” Kara says sternly.

“One little phone call won’t ruin a whole evening.” Lena tucks her fingers in her fists behind her spine and won’t budge. “Besides, the regional managers might not dial me into the conference call. It might be a non-issue.”

“Oh, so it’s a conference meeting now?” Kara nods, not surprised or angry about it in the slightest, because Lena fundamentally did not know how to relinquish work for more than fifteen minutes at a time. “Give me your thumb, Lena, this is your last warning.”

Lena just smiles coyly and keeps her thumbs and fingers balled. “Sorry,” she somehow manages to shrug in her box-tie. “No can do.”

“Alright, have it your way.”

“What are you—” Lena’s eyes grow wide as the arm pulls back, as the shoulder swings, as the cellphone is thrown through the open balcony doors off the thirty-nineth floor. “Kara!” She hisses.

“No more conference call,” Kara shrugs and picks up her flogger. “You want to complain about it?” She twists the handle and shows the crybaby the spreading falls of leather.

Lena’s ribs swell outwards against the rope with a long, deep inhale of breath. She holds it, cheeks puffed, eyes fixed on the flogger that was about to punch holes in the plot-points of her machinations.

“I’ll get to it later,” she says, much more diplomatically.

“You know I think a little polite deference is the only thing incapable of hurting you right now.” Kara lifts her eyebrow, smirking and remembering the words they had negotiated around as being possible greens.

“Yes Ma’am.” Lena licks her lips and closes her eyes.

“That sounds so pretty in your mouth little girl,” Kara quirks a pleased look, spinning the flogger around until gravity gathered up and concentrated the falls. “Does it feel right?”

Lena pauses for the longest time.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And,” Kara wiggles her brows, striking the front of her thigh with a tame gentle thud. “I would like it if you made a point of using it for the rest of tonight, please.” Lena nods but says nothing.

In Kara’s mind, she’s painting a picture, singing a song, finding a reliable rhythm for Lena to lean into.

The strikes of the flogger are never too solid, never more than she feels the chief executive will find pleasurable. The flogger whips the air, it’s bark far worse than it’s bite, striking the front of her thighs, expertly wrapping over the hip to catch her buttock.

“More please?” Lena whispers out of nowhere.

Kara grins when it registers in her brain.

“You’re forgetting something, baby girl.”

“More please, _Ma’am_.”

***

They aren’t bruises as such, pink, warm to the touch, a little red but only for a short time before they’ll need re-painting. The marks are an hour glass, a ticking clock, a pocketwatch of how long Lena’s abundantly blissful mood can and will last for.

The troublemaker spins and twirls slowly in the rope, quiet, thrilled, straining and sweating. In the moments she’s capable of speaking, she whimpers instead. Kara buries her fingers deep inside her little tight cunt, push-pressing into the tiny spot of heaven right behind her clit, palm dug against her swollen hood, edging her towards the gates of hell.

“Ma’am please, please, please—” Lena’s eyes crack open. “Please can I cum?”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” Kara hums and slips her other hand up her belly.

The box-tie makes her breasts bulge and squeeze off her chest, nipples swollen, begging to be sucked, bit, played with and squeezed hard until she breaks to tears.

Kara does none of these things. She grazes over them gently, circling, teasing them stiff and hard until the bratty thing is gritting her teeth and whining.

“Such a dirty, wet, messy little thing.” Kara removes her fingers and holds them up, webbing them, pushing them into hung crimson lips to be sucked clean. “Good girl, use your tongue. That’s it—” She slips the two fingers over the flat of her eager little tongue and makes her gag and wretch into her fingers. “Good girl, give me your spit. What do you say Lena?”

“Thank you,” Lena mumbles incoherently against the fingers pressing down into her tongue. “Thank you Ma’am.”

“Such a good, good girl.” Kara smiles happily. “Tell me what you are.”

“Your good girl, Ma’am,” Lena closes her eyes, embarrassed and thrilled.

“My good girl, huh?” Kara pushes her fingers back inside slick, swollen cunt lips. “You know I take great pride in pretty things that belong to me… maybe I’ll have to get you a collar.” She fucks her hard.

When Lena whimpers and moans, it’s so much weaker and softer than her normal sounds. It’s the noise of a woman on the brink of her sensibilities, on the brink of new realisations about herself. Kara wants to give her all and more. She looks so pretty like this, tied-up, spread open, pink and puffing for air. She would look prettier with a hand wrapped around her throat, Kara thinks, but decides that will be more fun when it’s negotiated for another special evening — and there certainly will be another.

Fingers hilted far inside her cunt, curling against her g-spot, fucking deep and fast until the crybaby’s hips are jolting and shaking in the air, Kara works her hard, relentless even. Her gleaming little asshole twitches and flexes. Kara grins, gathering saliva on the back of her tongue.

When she hoicks a glob of spit, expert aim, dripping down her asshole, it does things to the crybaby.

Kara presses her thumb into her ring, not penetrating, not delving too far, just pressing and circling against her slippery little hole. Lena cries out and bucks her hips, forehead wrinkling, brows knitted, teeth clenching, her throat tense and rocking with want.

“Poor little baby girl,” Kara cranes down and kisses her belly in sporadic little trails, this way, then that way. “You feel so fucking drippy and desperate, princess, I can feel you clenching, you should be careful — I would _hate it_ if you were sore tomorrow.”

“Shut up Kara!” Lena barks, giggling and moaning in the same breaths. It gives Kara an abrupt good laugh too.

“Fine baby,” Kara whispers and fucks the clingy little cunt on her fingers, slipping out, smoothing her fingers over flush wet lips, circling her throbbing clit, pushing back in fast and deep. “You want to cum?”

“Yes please Ma’am, And.” Lena nods frantically, gathering her breath. “Will you… will you put your thumb in?”

“My thumb in your butt?” Kara has to bite back the smirk.

“Please?”

“Well I would just hate it if it was too much for you to take kitten.” Kara grins and nips her hipbone, fingers curling and fucking her to oblivion. “But, if you’re sure—”

“I’m sure!” Lena almost wails. “I’m sure, sure, sure! Please, I can’t—” She rocks her hips, desperate and close. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

“You’ll hold on as long as I fucking tell you to hold it, baby. God help you if you don’t.” Kara made no bones, warm and soft and indifferent. “There’s a good girl, just give up, there you go, it will be so much better for you when you learn to just let me make the decisions…”

Lena finally cries. It isn’t thick horrible destructive tears, she weeps, bottom lip going, nodding slowly, melting into her helplessness. She cries, and it’s enough to soften the little malevolent god between her legs.

“There you go,” Kara hushes, thumb dipping and pressing inside. Lena inhales a breath too big for her lungs, stiff and on the edge of herself. “Jesus, you’re sucking me inside greedy girl—” Kara feels muscles tense and flex against her thumb.

“So good!” Lena makes less and less sense, barely holding on to herself. “Please? Please Daddy?”

Kara blinks, registering the deference, a word that hasn’t been negotiated and yet… sounds and feels so fucking perfect. Kara just nods into it, feeling it out, thrilled and aroused beyond reason.

“Okay baby,” Kara husks when her muscles get tight all at once, when the poor little baby dripping down her wrist can’t take anymore. “You can cum for Daddy.”

“Thank you!”

Lena cums in a rush, explodes all at once, a big bang in and of herself. Kara grins and feels her flexing pretty holes get tight, fucking, forcing them to take more and more despite the sensitivity.

It makes Lena blink away tears, makes her open-mouthed sob stay hung and silent, frozen, her brain stuck like a stalled engine. Kara fucks her harder, faster, thrumming against her swollen g-spot until she’s certain she’s got the right angle.

Then, she really makes the crybaby burst.

“There you go princess,” Kara hushes and rubs dripping fingers up and over her soaked, twitching swollen cunt. “Such a good, good, good girl.” Kara laughs, teasing a bucking, over-sensitive clit that twists and tries to escape her ministrations.

“S-sorry,” Lena stutters out of nowhere, nervous and not quite sure of the mechanics. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean—” She glances at Kara, then immediately looks away.

“What baby?” Kara furrows.

When she looks down, taking stock of herself, of her dripping wet t-shirt, her sprayed jeans, the tiny puddle on the living room floor that would definitely need mopping. Kara nods and closes her eyes, trying her hardest not to be pleased, because how the hell did Lena get to thirty-five years of age having never…

“It’s okay, baby, that’s just squirt.” Kara’s voice wobbles with amusement. “Lena, it was very much intentional on my part,” she whispers and starts the process of untying the suspension lines.

“Wait.” Lena stares in disbelief as her thigh is slowly lowered back to the ground. “You… you can do that on purpose?”

“Yeah baby,” Kara knits her brow together. “You want to try again later? Get you a snack, some water, put you in the bath first?”

Lena’s expression is glittering, glowing, giddy and pleased. It makes Kara feel pleased too. When Lena has both legs back on the floor, curling and tucking up towards her chest as the rope is untied and took off her shins, that’s when she finds her voice again.

“That sounds lovely, Kara, but first.” She hesitates, smirking and staring acutely. “The small matter of my work cellphone…”

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